A long stream of drool pooled out of my mouth, sliding down my arm that draped over the couch while I slept. Motionless as if I was in a deep trance, I found it hard to determine if I was entirely asleep or if it was just some sort of hypnosis.
I was aware of every movement of my still body as I slowly drew in long breaths to ease out of anxiety. I could feel the soft silky fabric of my luxurious pillowcase against my tangled mess of hair that stuck to my face.
Was I snoring?
The sound of amplifier feedback buzzed through my ears and my eyes shot open.
"What the fuck!" I shouted, flying up off the couch as AC/DC's Back in Black boomed through the speakers.
With blurred vision, I realized that I was looking at Chris and his handsome, smiling face. Guitar in hand, he played as loud as he could, screeching his fingers along the fretboard. "Back in black, I hit the sack. I've been too long, but it's good to be back!"
Leaping from the couch, I attacked him with a quick slap on his chest before crumbling into his arms. "Take off your stupid guitar so I can hold you." I sobbed, gripping to his t-shirt for dear life.
With a free hand, Chris spun the guitar around to his back and hoisted me up around his waist. "How you doin', baby?"
"I was so worried." I happily buried my nose in his warm neck so I could give him small kisses while inhaling him in like he was fresh baked warm cookies. I was overcome with emotion, petting down the back of his neck to feel his familiar curls. "Chris, I missed you so much."
"It wasn't so bad, was it?" He tightened his hold around me to hug me closer, sighing out loud.
"It was horrible." I sniffled, pulling away to look over his face as if it had been years since we last reunited. "Never do that to me again. You aren't allowed to just leave me like that."
With a chuckle, he lowered me down to my feet and turned off the amplifier, which was beginning to make its loud screeches of feedback that killed the mood. "At least I told you the truth about what I was doing."
My smile dropped to an exasperated frown, sensing that he had a great amount of built-up tension. "Chris-"
"What, Briel?" He stood straight, starting me dead in the eyes with a dry smirk on his face. "Did I not tell you everything you might need to know? Even if it risked my life?"
"You just got home, it's-" I paused to look at the time on the TV. "It's almost four in the morning."
"So?" He shrugged, pulling the guitar off of his back with care.
"So, wouldn't you just like to feel like everything's normal on your first night back at home?" Tugging at my fingers nervously, I silently begged him for peace, blinking innocently into his heavy brown eyes.
"Nothing is normal, Briel. You don't understand it, I can't just snap back and pretend as if none of this happened. As if you didn't feed me rotten lies, every fuckin' day."
"What does that mean?" My lips twitched nervously, quivering while I sealed away the pathetic whining that threatened to spill out.
"It means that you betrayed me, Briel. You took advantage of how I felt about you, and you used it to mask your lies."
Feeling like the wind was sucked out of me by a supersonic vacuum, I stared dumbly at his frighteningly calm stature. "I want you to know I never took advantage of your love for me, Chris. You know I love you more than anything."
Looking down at his boots, solemnly thinking over his next few words, he shook his head sadly. "You did, whether you meant to or not."
"Chris-"
"So," he interrupted me, gesturing down at the coffee table where two short tumbler glasses sat beside an unopened bottle of Makers Mark whiskey. "In that case, we're gonna drink this down together, and I'm gonna get every drop of the truth out."
"You don't drink anymore though," I protested, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. "You've been doing so good, baby."
"Yeah, well it feels like you just stomped all over my heart and I'd like to take that feeling away." He sat himself down on the couch and looked over the cluttered living room with a sigh. "Sit down, Bri, stop with the excuses."
I didn't think that I could hurt him like this. Hell, I didn't think I was able to hurt the man at all, but seeing the shimmer of sadness in his eyes when he gazed down at me was all the proof I needed. I truly did hurt him with the long list of lies I had fed him.
"Here you go," he passed me a full glass of the pungent amber liquid and watched as I reluctantly took it. "One glass, and we'll start the more lengthy questions."
"Have you already planned what you want to ask? Besides the obvious?"
He nodded with a brief smile, and took a smooth drink from the glass, visibly relaxing from that one sip alone. "What's your real name, Peach. The whole thing in full."
Taking a quick drink to match his own, my face crinkled in confusion. "You honestly don't trust my name?"
"Just answer it." He urged, pouring back another drink. "The whole deal."
"Ambriella. My name is Ambriella Sinclair."
"Okay, and what was your father's name?"
"Vince." I hesitated to bring the cup to my lips, dreading the awful sting of the liquor. "Vincent Sinclair."
"Your Momma's name?"
"Angel."
With a brief smirk, he swirled the liquid in his glass and gazed down at the drink. "What do you do for a living?"
"Christian, you've seen me at work, you know I work there. How could I lie to you about that?" The pain echoing in my heart pulled me under, drowning me in regret. He doesn't even trust who I am?
Everything is a lie to him now, isn't it?
"Just answer, Bri. Come on, it ain't that bad."
"I'm a stripper at Honeys. Now, if you're gonna ask what those duties include, I'll tell you. It's a lot of nudity and cringe-worthy conversations with creepy men who try to tell you to get saved by the lord. I dance around in horribly painful shoes and underwear that tries to lodge itself up my-"
"Briel!" Chris stopped me, holding out a hand. "Enough."
"Well, you asked."
"I had to hear what you sound like when you tell me the truth." His drink was already halfway gone, looking due for refill at any moment. "Now, that I know you how you can answer honestly I want to know about the very first time you met Marcello."
My cheeks paled with the question, feeling the rush of the oncoming pressure. "Well,"
"And right there is where you try to lie." He smirked. "You hardly tried to hide it though. Weird, huh?"
"One of the first times I met him, I was in a concrete room with no windows." Pausing to take a drink, I held out my finger to show I wasn't finished speaking. "Gripping onto a chain-link fence while he beat me."
"You don't-"
"With a gun," I added smugly, turning my eyes away from him.
"You don't know where you were?"
"I was underground." The glass now felt slick in my hands, as they now began to perspire.
"Hmm," he sat forward and thought through my response deeply, nostrils flaring while clenching his jaw tight. "Were there any other girls there?"
"No, it was a giant empty room." I shuddered at the thought, remembering it all. The buckets, the beds, and those God awful chains.
He flexed his long fingers, tightening them in a fist, before clearing his throat harshly. "Who does Marcello work for?"
"I-"
"Ah, stop right there." He grabbed my chin and forced my head back to him. "I can see your heart ramming in your chest, sweetheart. Tell me who it is."
"I don't know his name, Chris. I can't tell you." I whined, sniffling out short gasps.
"What do you know him by? What do you call him? I need to know, Bri, don't lie to me." His voice shook with urgency, holding me tight.
"Daddy."
"As in your Father?"
"No," I closed my eyes, holding them firmly shut. "That what us girls know him as. He has a lot of us work at Honeys cause it brings in the most money."
"So does he own the nightclub?"
"No, It's privately owned."
"Fuck me, Briel. This ain't right." He released me and polished off his drink, wasting no time in pouring his second. "He just makes all of you girls work there because he says so? Shit don't add up."
"I'm telling you the truth, Chris. I swear, Honeys has always been a place of nonstop revenue, he likes us there because of the free marketing."
"Finish your damn drink."
Jumping at his barking tone, I scowled at him and poured the last bit down my throat.
"I should've said please, I'm sorry."
"It's alright." My hand trembled as I wiped my wet lips before passing my glass to him so that he could refill it. "I'm honestly starting to feel it already, maybe we should-"
"Nope." He shook his head hard, lifting his glass as if to say cheers. "Chug this down with me."
"I'll end up passing out before I get through your questions."
He scoffed, remaining cool and casual as he gulped his entire glass down. "Not with me, darling. I'll get what I need, no more lies."
Holding my breath, I tipped the cup back and rather sloppily drained its contents. "There you go."
"I didn't say you had to down the whole thing." He chuckled, savoring his drink slowly now.
"You wanted me drunk, here you have it."
"So there are other girls involved?"
Drinking that fast was a damn mistake.
"Yes." I nodded surely and felt a burp rise in my throat, reminding me yet again of that nasty bitter taste. "Most of us are in the same situation for the same kind of reasons."
"Money?"
"And sex." I felt myself start a slow sway as I leaned forward to set my glass down on the table.
"Sex?" He raised his eyebrows, mindlessly filling my cup again.
I nervously fiddled with my hair, beginning to panic as I felt the alcohol taint my self-control. This was exactly what he wanted to do. There was no way I could lie to him now.
"What, like rape?" he clarified, speaking the words that stung in my chest.
"Yeah, some of us."
"Did they rape you?"
"Of course they did." I rubbed my temples, trying to massage my growing headache away.
"Does he come to Honeys? Is that where he finds you? He's the owner isn't he?"
"No, he's not, I swear I don't know who owns the place. He'll- he meets me by my car and will drive me to places so he can get me alone."
"Is that why you lied to me, Briel? Did Marcello rape you?"
I couldn't handle it, hearing those words together made every ounce of my being shrivel up inside. The whiskey on top of this painful conversation was going to make me spill a lot more than just secrets. "I'm gonna be sick."
"Do you need to go to the bathroom?"
A small hiccup was enough to start my gag reflex, making my mouth water with thick alcohol flavored saliva. I stood quickly, covering my mouth as I stumbled to the bathroom with Chris heavy on my tail.
"Oh God," he groaned, turning away as I hugged the toilet bowl. "You shouldn't have downed it that fast."
"You wanted me to," I laughed out, rocking back and forth before another quick hurl. "But I'm not gonna lie to you, no sir."
"Well, I'm glad. We aren't done talking yet if that's what you're thinking." His fingertips pulled up on my hair, lightly scratching against my scalp.
"He did rape me," Dry heaving while spitting out as much of that awful taste as I could, I did my best to get this conversation back on track.
I owed that much to him.
"Were you afraid of what I'd do?"
"I'm afraid of how you'll look at me. Knowing that-"
"Did he rape you that night you hid in the shower?"
"I didn't want him to, Chris. I couldn't stop any of them."
He was silent for a moment, eyes on fire as I pushed myself away from the cold toilet bowl to stare back at him. That deadly pain in his voice was enough to break my feelings while reflecting his own. There was an ache. "There were multiple?"
"Look-"
"Oh fuck, Briel." He groaned out, loud and pained, covering his face as he leaned on the bathroom counter. "How could you make me believe he was gone, just so you could go through this alone?"
"I'm scared of him," I answered simply, my tears spilling down onto the toilet seat. "I'm terrified he'll find out about us and end up getting to you before you get to him."
"You've said that before, sweetheart. Is he really that big? Because I have ways of getting to him if I just know how to find him."
"But what if you don't?"
"If I know everything that I can about him, then it'll be easy. I have some of my men already looking out for him. Marcello is his real name, isn't it?"
"I swear to you that it is. I don't know him by anything else."
Other than Papi.
"Why'd you look away like that? What else did you want to say?"
"He makes me call him 'Papi'."
His eyebrows raised high, and he cocked his head. Through the visible anger he projected in just body language, I could see his wheels turning. "Does he now?"
"Yes." I nodded solemnly, trying to lift myself up from the floor. "What was that look for?"
"I'm confident I'll find him. Believe it or not, that right there is an excellent clue as to how to track the son of a bitch down." Seeing my helpless struggle as I tried to stand, he held out his hand and carefully helped me up, steadying me in place. "He's an egomaniac. Making you call him that."
"What happens then? You have to have a plan. You have one don't you?"
"Of course I have a plan. Briel, I have more of a reach than you know. I'll find him and I'll kill him. No- I'll strap his head down in front of a torch, and watch his eyeballs melt out from his skull. Fuck it, I'll use that rotten skull as a spit cup if I can salvage a piece."
I cringed at the gruesome image, holding my hand to my queasy stomach. Marcello seemed invincible, but why did something like that seem so...possible.
"We'll leave this place and I'll give you everything you've ever dreamed of. Isn't that what you want?"
"Yes, you know that it is."
Here come the waterworks.
"What could he possibly do to me, that I couldn't do to him?" When I didn't answer, he sighed out, watching me make a blubbering fool of myself. "I'll get him, Briel. I'm already halfway there."
"Will you promise that nobody else will get hurt? What if you asking around has repercussions?"
"Then, I'll do the next best thing I can to make sure you're okay. You have to trust that."
"I do."
"What's important to me, is making sure you don't get hurt again, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep it that way. Fuck,"
"Christian, I know it's a mess-"
"I have so many fucking questions." Rubbing his tired eyes with the heel of his hands, I could see the stress taking over. "How do I know that you'll be safe? How do I know you won't be sold off to be a sex slave or something?"
"Because I'm an asset. I make them a lot of cash by working under Daddy."
"That's just not good enough for me. Don't you see how twisted all of this is? I know they have some fucked up obsession with you, so who's to tell that they won't just make you their toy."
"It's not Daddy you should worry about." I sniffled, looking down at my red blistered toes.
"As far as I'm concerned, anyone who works for the motherfucker is going down. Starting with Marcello."
"I believe you, Chris. I really do, baby. I'm so sorry that I didn't put my trust into that."
"So, where do we go from here, Bri? You and I, the lying and hiding things from me?"
"I won't do it anymore."
I need fucking water.
"You have to give me more than that. Just tell me one more time why you lied in the first place, him dying and all that."
"Because I wanted you to back off. I wanted you to just let me handle it, and I would get out on my own."
"But now you see that ain't possible, huh?"
I stretched my arms out and tied them around his waist, marveling at its noticeable muscle growth and strength. "I'm scared you alone can't take him on. I know I can't either, but it just seemed easier."
"I'll bring an army, my darlin'. He doesn't stand a chance. I'll be quiet about it too, you don't have to worry about me putting them other ladies In any more trouble."
"So you'll stay away from Honeys?"
"I'll be watching, in one way or another. Bri, I'm gonna kill him."
"I hope you will, but I hope you'll do it smart."
"He'll never see me coming. Before anyone has a chance to realize what happened to him, you and I will be long gone, Princess."
Things seemed to be better after our talk, but it was more than obvious that Chris still felt hurt. It was more than just the lying, it was the fact that he saw my actions and feelings as manipulation. Almost making him doubt my true love for him.
I never wanted to hurt his trust like that.
I wanted to slap a bandaid on the wound, and instantly make it all better again, but I had to prove it to him. I had to show him that my feelings were just as real as the fear I felt in my soul.
At this point, if he got to Marcello before Marcello got to him, then so be it. I had to let myself follow his lead.
However, there was no way I would deliberately lead him to the beast, myself. Chris would have to bring his so-called army because without it we would all die.
Simple as that.
-
"Hey," Chris shook me gently awake from my deep sleep, caressing my cheek as he kissed along my neck. "Wake up, Briella."
"What is it?" I groaned, squinting my eyes to focus on him through the outstanding brightness of the sun shining into the room.
"I think I heard your Momma come home." He smiled as I practically levitated out of bed.
"No way, are you serious?" Despite my head spinning and pounding through the ache of my hangover, I rushed around my room to pull on my clothes. "Mom?" I shouted, tearing open the door to see her wandering the living room.
Her skinny arms were covered in dirt, evidence that she hadn't showered in days. Small rips and tears riddled her grubby clothes, and her long hair was in knots falling down her back. She looked like hell, but she looked sober.
"Have you seen the phone book?"
"Where have you been?" I choked out, taking hold of her hand to capture her attention.
Her eyes lit up when she saw me, vibrant and blue with a glimmer of hope. "I was on a journey."
"Doing what?"
"I got mixed up with a bad group, and they ended up leaving me in Georgia. Just left me by the highway to rot in the swamps."
"What- Momma, how on earth did you get home from Georgia? Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"
"They saved my life." She nodded matter-of-factly and began to raise her shirt up over her head.
"Don't get naked, Momma- stop." I snapped, pulling the hem down before she could expose herself. "What did they do to save you? They left you to die. That's what you said. God, you need a shower."
"I haven't used it since they left me there. Not once, you better know. I just kept on walking and walking. Hitched a ride from a nice Christian lady who gave me this pamphlet." She spoke rapidly, looking about the room for the said pamphlet.
"Welcome home, Angel." Chris stood in the room, pulling on his t-shirt.
"Who's this hunk of a man?" She gasped, looking him up and down excitedly.
"You've met him before, Momma. It's Chris, he lives here too."
After starting at him with eyes as round as golf balls, she took in a loud breath. "Ah, well keep him around. He reminds me of your father."
"He was shorter," I grumbled, walking over to the coffee table to begin cleaning up our mess from last night. "Chris has muscles."
"You hungry, Angel?" Chris asked her calmly, smiling down at her frail frame.
"No, thank you, Vincent. I feel just fine."
Chris made awkward eye contact with me and cringed, noticing her declining mental health just as I was. "I'll be making breakfast here soon, I'll fix you a plate."
"So you haven't used since those guys dropped you off?" I interjected, paying close attention to the crooks of her arms, looking for any blown veins or recent tracks.
"I feel like a brand new woman. Haven't touched the stuff since. Look at me, don't I just look fantastic?" She did a small dance before quickly getting distracted by the bookcase. "Where'd I put that pamphlet?"
"Bri," Chris touched his hand to my waist and rubbed up against my back. "You wanna go out and get some breakfast? I think we both need to let her get adjusted back into her environment."
"Do you think it's wise to leave her here like this?" Full of confusing nerves and worries, I chewed at my lip, peeling the surface skin off with my teeth. "I haven't touched her room since before you got home. There's so much junk in there, I'd be worried to-"
"Bri," he smoothed his thumb over my raw lip and drug it down, silencing me. "I'll take care of it, baby. You go get ready and I'll get the trash out for you."
"Are you sure she'll be okay?" Momma was now on her hands and knees, rummaging around in the shelves for God knows what.
"I promise, we'll stay with her all day together when we get back." He soothed, brushing my hair behind my ears to soothe me back to reality.
"I'll have to work tonight, are you comfortable with hanging out with her?"
That wonderful smile quickly fell into a blank stare. It was all business now. He was ready at any time, that was for sure. "Is Marcello going to be there?"
"No. I don't know. There's no telling."
He said just yesterday that he would see me again today.
"I'll be taking you there tonight."
"Are you gonna stay there?" I asked, eyes widening in surprise.
I couldn't let him do that.
What if...
"No, I wasn't planning on it." His jaw muscles twitched with skepticism. "Why? Do I need to?"
Play it cool.
"You can if you want, I was just worried about Momma. You know, leaving her alone and all that."
"What time are you expected to be off?" He grumbled, pulling away to fish out a cigarette from his pack.
"2:00 a.m."
"Mother fuck. Alright, I'll be there at 1:30." As he began to light the cig he glanced down at my Mom who was practically drooling for the cigarette in his mouth. "You want one?"
"You smoke Camels, hell yes I want one." She wheezed, hoisting herself from the floor.
"Alright, come on outside. Bri, you wanna start getting ready, or do you wanna smoke too?"
"You guys go ahead. I'll be no longer than twenty minutes."
"Y'all going to the store? To the bank? I need to go to the bank." Groaning in relief as she took the cigarette, Momma bounced around the doorway.
"We're getting you some grub. I decided I don't want to cook." Chris winked at me as he held the door open for her.
Before walking away, I left him with a quick look of thanks. Momma was safe with him, in every way possible.
And for that, I could not be more grateful.
-
"Okay, you ready? I want two eggs-over easy, one side of hash browns with gravy on the side, and a few sticks of bacon. Please." I recited my order to Chris before we entered the diner so he'd be able to speak for me. "Oh, and a cinnamon roll. With extra fro-"
"Good Christ, Peach. You hungry or something?" Chris laughed, holding the truck door open for me so I could step out.
I really shouldn't eat that much.
"You're right, go ahead and cut the cinnamon roll out. Fuck it, and the gravy too."
"I'm gonna get you all of it. You deserve it, okay?" He pecked a sweet kiss on my temple and began walking me towards the diner. "I know you haven't been eating right lately."
"I'm getting chubby, Chris."
This made him laugh, a glorious belly laugh with that smile I loved so much. "You're crazy, woman. The only things that've gotten bigger is that ass of yours and those cute lil' tits."
"You don't think I'm-"
"Shh, please, girl. Come on. You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He ushered me inside the diner, smacking my buttcheeks as I passed him.
-
In no time, we had our warm boxes of food, ready to take home and eat.
But we had different plans.
Sitting in the bed of his truck, soaking up the sunshine, Chris and I shared the Cinnamon roll in the comfort of each other's company.
Don't get me wrong, I was more than happy that Momma was home, but I wasn't right without Chris. I needed this time with him.
I wanted to make him feel as loved as he should.
"Did you get to do anything fun on your trip?" I snuggled into his side, licking a glob of icing from my thumb.
"No, I can't say there was anything fun about it. Those guys are all business, real hard asses with no sense of humor."
"Did you try to joke with them?"
"Yeah, the ones who mattered. The guys under me are all kiss asses. I guess that's funny."
"Did you do anything cool in your alone time?" I picked up his hand and stuck his pointer finger in my mouth, sucking the icing off just as I did with mine.
"Oh my god, Bri. You trying to start something?" He groaned, licking at his lips hungrily.
"I just wanted your icing." I winked, releasing his hand back to his lap. "Can't let it go to waste."
"You're a tease."
"Not the first time you've said that to me." I rolled my eyes, resting my head against the cab window. "So, tell me, we're you able to actually relax, or was it really all business?"
"Are you askin' if I was jerking off or something?"
I couldn't help but giggle, covering my mouth like a giddy schoolgirl. "Well did you?"
"Surprisingly I didn't- believe it or not. I spent most of my alone time writing songs. Songs for you "
"Really?" I cooed, nudging his arm playfully. "Look at you go. Can I hear them?"
It wasn't often that I saw this man blush, but when it came to any kind of praise, he transformed into a whole new man. "Of course you can, princess. I'd love to let you listen."
"It makes me happy when you're able to enjoy your music."
"It has been too long since I've been able to play, hasn't it?" Thinking hard, he rubbed his hands down the front of his denim before taking a long drink of water. "Can't lie, ever since the falling out with Zach, playing hasn't been the same. Anytime I would write somethin' he'd always be there to help me fix it up, tweak it in any way."
"He's like your brother, I can imagine it's hard to fall back into a new normal." My hand sat on his thigh, rubbing into his leg muscles as I spoke, trying to be as supportive as possible despite having a dislike toward his so-called friend. "Do you have any other friends you might want to get together with?"
How could I not see that this was tearing him up inside? He's practically given up everything he's passionate about to dedicate every waking hour to me. There was no time for music or friends, it was all about work and keeping me safe and happy.
And I still shit all over it, lying to him on a constant basis.
Even now, he knows about Marcello being alive, and the harsh reality of Daddy's business, but he doesn't know how dangerously close he is. He doesn't know that Marcello is always around, always watching.
Putting roses on our doorstep.
"I don't know." He tapped at his leg anxiously, answering with hesitation. "I wouldn't count the sorry assholes who work for me as friends. The only other person I would consider to be as close as Zach and I, is Rick."
"Why don't you try to hang out with him more?"
"If you want me to be perfectly honest, it hurts to be around him."
"Did he do something to you? I thought you guys seemed to get along well."
Had I missed something? Did-
Wait.
"He and Tyler we're very close. Shit, they were damn near the same person. Rick was more of a brother than I ever was." Chris looked up at the blue sky above us, facing the bright light of the sun like it was nothing.
"You loved him just the same, Christian. You might not have seen it, but I know that you meant so much to him."
"Rick was the first person to find out. He was there for it all." As he spoke, his voice began to tremble and his chest rose and fell heavily with every ragged breath. "He and Rey came to the hospital and stayed with me through everything. They saw me at my worst, bloody and completely out of my mind."
"Is it hard to see them after going through that?" My heart ached to see him feeling such pain in his soul, a feeling so raw and real.
"It is," He spoke after a quiet moment to compose himself, staring down at my hand in his lap. "Maybe one day I can look past it, and be able to make new memories out of it all. But I just can't be around them like I used to."
"I completely understand, my love. Don't let time rush you into healing, okay? You creating a distance from them does not mean that you don't care for them or love them any differently. You are so strong, Christian, an absolutely incredible person with a heart of gold. I hope you never let yourself forget that." I watched him carefully, studying every inch of his face as I spoke softly to him. "And I hope you forgive yourself because it was never your fault, okay?"
Without any warning, he scooped me in his arms and squeezed me tightly. "I love you, Briella. I love you so much, sweetheart."
The emotion in his voice sent me over the edge, crashing against the walls of my heart. Every word was passionate and true, with not a single hesitation or stutter. "I love you too, Christian Blake. And I always will, forever baby."
"Listen," he pulled away, revealing his sparkling eyes. "I have something for you."
"Is it a kiss?" I shifted in his lap, making myself more comfortable while I stroked the scruffy side of his face. "Because I think one of those would-"
Silencing my teasing, he kissed me tenderly, dragging his delicious lips over mine. Moaning into my mouth as the kiss slowly deepened, he chuckled to himself and pulled away. Keeping something like that going, might just result in public sex.
Surely it would be the hottest sex anyone would've witnessed, but we couldn't have that now, could we?
"I will always give you kisses, my princess, but that isn't what I wanted to give you." Easing me off his lap, he grinned at me as he stood up from the bed of the truck. "Wait here."
I giggled as he leaped to the ground and climbed in his truck, digging through the glovebox for whatever it was he wanted to surprise me with.
As he made his way back up to me, I noticed him hiding the object behind his back. A gallant smile plastered over his face.
What did this man have up his sleeve?
"Alright, so listen," Clearing his throat, he sat down in front of me, stretching his long legs out on either side of my thighs. "I know it's early, but I can't hold on to a gift to save my life. So here,"
"You didn't have to-" A gasp left my lips as he handed me a long velvet black box, with gold lettering engraved on the front.
My name.
"Oh my lord," I breathed, softly touching my fingertips against the exquisite box. "Christian, this is-"
"Open it," he laughed nervously, cheeks turning to a light pink color. "The real gift is inside, silly."
My gaze quickly flicked up at him before I began to open the box, gasping out in utter shock as I was met with the stunning gift inside.
A long strand of brilliant diamonds, shined in the light of the sun, showing off their radiant beauty. In the center of the necklace was one single pear cut diamond, sparkling brighter than any of the others around it.
It had to have been at least three carats.
"I-" my mouth could not formulate words fast enough to adequately express how remarkable this gift was. I was in awe, in absolute shock.
"Do you like it?" He asked gently, fidgeting with the holes in his pants.
"This is for me?" My voice trembled, touching over the largest diamond with total care.
"It has your name on it, baby. Of course it's for you."
"I- this is the most- Chris, I love it. I love it so much, thank you."
"Turn around, let me put it on you." His smile widened, watching me eye the necklace as he carefully removed it from the box for me.
I damn near couldn't bring myself to move, I was floating, soaring in a cloud of unfiltered happiness. As I settled back into his lap, he smoothed my hair to the side, planting a soft kiss on the small of my neck.
"I want you to know that I had planned on getting you a different kind of gift, but I couldn't figure out your ring size for the life of me."
"You-" I gasped, starting to whip my head around before I remembered that he was still working on the fine clasp on the necklace. "You were gonna get me a ring?"
"No." He said sheepishly, fixing my hair back in place once the clasp was fastened.
"A ring, Christian?" Finally able to face him again, gazing into his smiling brown eyes. "Does that mean-"
"This is not the first gift I'll be giving you. I just want you to know that I have a lifetime of them to show you how much I'm in love with you."
"You're damn near about to make me cry, sir." Throwing myself into his arms, I held him tight, savoring this moment over any other.
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I want you to know that with your whole heart."
"I don't know what to say, Chris. No one has ever loved me like this."
"Well, get used to it, because I'm never leaving, princess."
With every fiber of my being, I believed every word. He was my everything.
And I was his.
Forever.
However long that might be.
He was mine until the end.
-
By the time we arrived back at the house, Momma's food was cold and soggy from the condensation in the styrofoam box. Our conversation had run on longer than we both had realized, but it was everything we needed.
We needed that time together.
"Momma?" I called out through the house as we stepped inside, noticing the gigantic mess of Christmas boxes and decorations scattered all over the living room.
She poked her head out of the kitchen and smiled a toothless grin at me with beads of sweat dripping down her pale forehead. "Does it look pretty in here, or what?"
"Momma," I hesitated, scanning over the disaster with wide eyes. "It's nice. I mean, a little chaotic I guess, but it's nice."
"Briel has to work tonight, would you like some help getting everything set up nice?" Chris strode over to her, handing her the breakfast we had gotten for her over two hours ago.
"I did need some help with the lights, I think that'd be a great help. Do you have a cigarette? I need a smoke."
"Yeah, just hold on a sec. How 'bout you start digging into your breakfast."
"Oh yeah." Momma flew around the room, lifting random trinkets, just to set them right back down. "You get the smokes, and I'll eat outside."
If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was high as a kite, but there was no telling for sure. Long-term heroin use over time becomes so much more than a lifestyle. It changes your mind, and way of functioning as a being. Momma could very well have stopped using it throughout her entire journey home, but those effects on her mind and body were never going to heal.
I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, to be proud of her sudden urge to make the home as it once used to be. Deep down I knew that she wanted to fix what she could of the past, but how much of it did she remember? Momma was ill, plagued with a manic and restless mind holding on to a faint memory that never lasted and traditions that we're never kept.
"You wanna come outside with us, Bri?" Chris propped the front door open with his foot, letting Momma step out first. "You don't have to smoke if you don't want to."
"Yeah," I swallowed hard, looking around the living room a final time before hesitantly making my way to the door. "Just help me watch her, okay?" I whispered to him before joining her outside.
He didn't have to say anything for me to know that he understood me completely, leading the way through the awkward tension of the moment.
"So all the way from Georgia, huh?" He stood beside Momma and passed her the cigarette, pulling her attention away from her fidgeting.
"All the way. You got a lighter, or are you out? You always burn through your lighters too fast. I've told you about that, haven't I?"
With a cool smile, he flicked the lighter in front of her cig. "I don't believe we've ever had that conversation."
"Ah, it don't matter anyway." Tremors wracked her frail body that was slick with a layer of sweat as she took a hard inhale.
"Momma, do you want me to get you some water." I couldn't take my eyes off her, noticing every shred of pain that she so desperately tried to hide.
"Nope, we're good over here." She crossed her legs tightly, bobbing her foot up and down anxiously.
"If I would've known you were up in Georgia, I'd have taken you home." Chris had been watching her just as closely as I was, paying close attention to every small movement and twinge she made. "I was up in Panama."
"Oh, that's an awful place." She shook her head ferociously. "Why on earth would you go up there?"
"Oh, trust me, it wasn't a place I'd like to revisit."
"The blow there is nice, lots of drugs up there nowadays." Momma was fixated on scraping a chunk of dirt stuck to the knee of her jeans, mumbling incoherently under her breath.
"Ya know what, I would like a cigarette," I spoke out, growing more and more anxious as the seconds passed by. "Would you mind Chris?"
"You're too young," she interjected, frowning up at me with a confusing gaze. "There's no need for you-"
"Momma, I'm well old enough to have a smoke. You know that."
"Yeah, well if you wanna keep your figure nice and sleek, you'd take my advice." Picking at a small scab on her neck as she winced in pain made her raspy voice shake with discomfort.
"As if you're a Saint." I retorted, preparing myself for this argument as I took in an angry inhale on my cig.
Clearing his throat loudly, Chris squatted down before her and opened her box of food. "Wanna try some eggs? They're scrambled so it'll be easier to eat."
"I can't stomach that, no way." Her legs began to shake violently, causing her an immense amount of visible discomfort.
"Mind if I ask you somethin', Angel?"
"I'm just fine if that's what you want to ask me, Lord knows I'm at my very best."
"Oh, absolutely you are," he agreed, feeding her positivity to elevate her declining mood.
Most likely because of me.
"What I want to know is if you remember the last hit you had. You think you can remember that?"
She scoffed out, flipping her head away from him in frustration before flicking her cigarette into the yard. "Too fucking long."
"You feel like shit don't you?" Pulling out one more cigarette from his pack with a nod, he handed her another before she had time to ask for one.
"I've had it worse."
"You're doing good though, Momma. I know it doesn't feel like it, but you really are."
"I miss it, man. If y'all only knew how great that shit is," her mood began to slowly regulate, now able to look at us in the eyes as she spoke. "You'd never want to look back. Crazy, isn't it? I miss having my mind back."
"You do have your mind back, it'll take a while for it to feel better but Bri and I are gonna be here to help you through it." Chris relaxed himself down on the porch and stretched his legs out. "Withdrawal sucks, it really does, but you have a chance to leave it all behind."
"You want to get better don't you, Momma?"
"It'd be nice to have another smack." She gave a brief smile and turned her attention out towards the street, her blue eyes highlighted by the radiant sunshine.
"You remember how Papa would sit out here with you?" I followed her gaze and watched the memory of a young girl, laid down on the sidewalk, unbothered by the world around her as she drew her chalk hearts and flowers. Her legs swung in the air, pigtails flowing under the control of the soft breeze that rushed through the evening air as the sun slowly set. That girl, so comforted by the safety and security that she felt from her family, would never have imagined.
That girl had no idea. She was a child, wanting to play and laugh, to dance and learn and grow. There was no way for her to know that the family she adored and looked up to was just a facade of happiness that masked the dark reality behind her parent's addiction. They were slaves, brainwashed by the shackles of an imaginary life that was nothing more than a blurry dream.
I had no clue.
"You did like it when we sat outside with you, didn't you?"
"I don't remember too much of it." Finally tearing my eyes away from the driveway and releasing myself from the painful memories of the false happiness, I looked her in her sad eyes and sighed. "I'm sure it was nice though."
"I have some pictures, you want to see them." She shot up from her chair and speed-walked to the front door, ripping it open before practically jumping inside.
"Hey," Chris nudged me, pulling me closer to him as if to tell me that he was still there. "I know it's hard to see her like this, but she's gonna feel a lot better soon."
"She's wanted to get clean before. This isn't some big new thing."
"So why are you upset?"
"It's like she wants to jump into life as if it's totally normal. Like she didn't just leave for weeks and pull out all of these things-" I waved my arm, gesturing to the mess in the house. "She doesn't seem to recognize that it all affects me too."
"She wants to feel better and the unpacking of old junk helps her cope."
"But I- these are things I haven't seen in years. I can't wrap my head around it."
"Don't be afraid to tell her that you can't handle it. She's on a wild ride of getting over this stuff and not every day is gonna be a walk in the park."
"It feels like nothing was ever real and she's only back because the drugs have already taken everything from her. She's lost her damn mind, Chris. I can't bear it."
"I can understand that, but she is still alive and kicking. She's a strong lady, Bri. Just like you. She just needs a little help getting through this and kicking this habit."
"It's more than just a habit. She lives for that stuff." I admired how he was hopeful for her, but she was so far away from being saved by hope alone.
There was no way for me to heal her with hope.
I just wanted to take it all away, to have my Momma again. She didn't deserve this pain, and neither did I.
"Exactly, and that's more reason for us to give her the time to heal. She might do it in strange ways, but I promise you I'm gonna be right here with you to give her all the help we can."
"They're a little wrinkled," Momma returned to the porch holding a small stack of loose pictures. "But you had to have been just a few years old."
I hesitantly peered at the picture after watching Chris look at it with a ginormous grin.
"Oh my goodness," I squinted, taking it from Momma to inspect it closely. "Where was this?"
I looked to be around five years or six years old at most, sporting a giant smile with my two front teeth missing, and an oversized t-shirt that must have belonged to my father.
"I have no idea, but weren't you just so damn cute?"
"Look at those ears." Chris chuckled heartily, grabbing the stack and flipping through the photos.
"I was very insecure about my ears, hush up." I swatted his arm and laughed along with the two.
I found it to be very interesting to see my mom show off pictures of me, a look of pride in her wrinkled face. Maybe she was going to get better. I suppose it wasn't quite fair of me to doubt her so strongly, this was the beginning of her journey to sobriety. She had an opportunity to get right with her mind and the last remaining family she still had.
I couldn't just let her down like that. She needed me, just as she always had.
"Do we have any others? I could've sworn we had that giant book full of the most random pictures. Do you remember that?" She anxiously paced in a small circle, scratching at her neck until the lines from her nails turned crimson against her skin.
"They're somewhere in that mess of a room."
"Well, see, I was thinking if you'd like some help with it, I'd be happy to start working with you in the room. We can get it all cleaned up and looking sweet for Christmas. What do you think?"
"I think that'd be wonderful, sweet girl." She cautiously reached for Chris's pack of smokes, aching for another nicotine fix.
"While you ladies do that, I can start fixin' up that front room."
"He's a hunk," she winked at Chris, propping a cig in between her lips. "A sweet southern boy, where're you raised? I can hear that twang loud and clear, no matter how you wanna hide it."
"It's all from my Dad," Chris held himself high, smiling confidently as if it was a good thing.
Momma didn't need to hear about all that.
"What's his name? What's your name?" She squinted at him for the answer, still most likely stuck on 'Vincent'.
"You go ahead and call me Chris." He nodded politely, helping me off the floor. "You go ahead and finish that up and we'll get started on all that in there."
Filled with excitement, Momma dropped the remainder of her smoke to the floor and squished it beneath her foot. "Let's go now, motherfucker. Let's rock it."
I had to have faith.
-
"Look, I swear to God you don't look fat, Briel. You gotta stop asking me that, how many times you gotta hear me say I like the damn bra?" Chris wobbled the shifter in neutral, throwing his head back against the headrest.
"It's just a little tighter, that's all." I place my hand on his and gently squeezed to catch his eyes. "I'm sorry I've been stressing about it too much today. I'll try and take your word for it, okay?"
Smirking at me with delicious wet lips, he eyed me down, appreciating all of the new curves. "You look so good damn good, I'm damn near ready to walk in there myself to get a little bit of that."
"Oh, stop." I gave a flirtatious giggle and reached up to pinch at his earlobe. "I'll have you know that I have my regulars tonight, and they will be ready for competition."
He shot forward, burying his face in the crook of my neck with a playful growl. "I'll fight 'em all down."
"Chris! Don't leave any marks." I squirmed in the seat, pushing against his iron tight grip as he sucked on my neck.
"Oh, it won't leave anything. It's just a kiss." He sighed, lowering his face down to my cleavage.
Honeys was nowhere near as busy as it usually was, which meant a smooth sailing night. Yes, it might be more boring than usual, but in most cases, it was a good thing. Either way, busy or not, I should not be risking anyone seeing Chris with me- especially since the man was motorboating my chest.
"Do you think you'll be in the mood to fuck around tonight?" He asked, groaning into my skin. "I would give anything to just have those juicy thighs of yours crush my neck, fuck it, you could suffocate me and I'd die fucking happy as hell. Use my face as a-"
"Christian Blake!" His hands were wandering again, desperate for my touch. "You have to be patient, sir."
"I don't want to be." Before giving my hips a pinch, he eased away from me and sighed. "You're no fun, Princess Peach."
"You know I have to go. I'd stay if I could, but-"
"I know, I know." He huffed out a frustrated sigh and ran his fingers through his tousled hair. "I want you to know I'm gonna be looking out for him, alright? I want to know if anything shady goes down, okay?"
"Alright." I nodded surely, giving him a face of pure confidence to ease his escalating nerves. "You'll be here at two?"
"I'll be out here at 1:30. Just in case the bastard wants to pay a visit. If I could, I'd be waiting out here all fuckin' night for him."
"Everything will be fine, I promise you." He knew I was speaking out of my ass, but at least he let me manifest some positivity. "I trust that you'll keep me safe."
"You swear to me that you'll tell me if he comes around? Can I trust you to tell me the honest to god truth?"
Why do I feel hesitation?
"I swear on my life."
"Good, now give me a kiss."
"Yes, sir."
-
It was just as I expected, Honeys was a ghost town filled with mostly women. Some of the girls were dancing around on the poles for fun, simply to entertain each other.
"Hey, you!" Candy skipped over to me, posing in her sparkly white lingerie. "You look bangin' bitch."
"Oh my God, so do you!" I marveled at the glittery makeup that spilled down her cheeks, looking ethereal under the glow of the lights. "It's dead in here, you think I could just run the bar tonight?"
"Hmm," she swayed around, looking over the club to give me a solid answer. "Vic's here, you should go see if that's alright. I know he was super specific about where he wanted us tonight."
"Oh, alright. Well, that's good, I need to give him my check anyway."
"You go do that," she winked. "I've got someone here who is just begging for my attention."
If she says it's Zach, I swear to God.
"Zach just can't keep his paws off of me."
"Alright!" I shook my head turning away from her as she giggled. "That's gross, I'll see you later."
"At least I'll be having fun." She teased, getting the final word in before I strode into the back.
With a smile on my face, I pushed the office door open and crept in. Smiling down at Vic, where he sat at the desk, finishing up a private conversation.
Waiting patiently, I pulled my check out, and set it down before him. Now that it was paid, and I was secure for the month, I felt a small weight lift from my shoulders.
Just that much closer.
"Hello, Peaches."
"I wanted to know if I could take over bar tonight. It's real slow out there, so I think I could really-"
"Actually," he stopped me, clearing his throat stiffly. "We have other business to attend to tonight."
"I'm sorry?" My smile quickly faded, dreading the next few words that might leave his mouth.
"You'll be in a room tonight." He lifted himself from the chair, directing his gaze to the concrete slab flooring. "As per requested by-"
"He's here isn't he?" My cheeks burned hot, setting my skin to a boiling temperature. It was damn near a feverish feeling.
Why must it be so hard to just stay safe?
"No."
"Well, then why can't you look at me? Why do I have to be in a room? Vic, come on. Look at me."
"We do not have much time. I will explain what I can, but you must take this seriously."
"What is it?" I hissed out a whisper, nervously scanning my eyes around the room for any sign of danger.
"You are to perform a series of tasks, under my control. My duties are to lead you through them, and capture all of the footage via camera record." Still looking away from me, he mindlessly adjusted the papers on the desk to keep casual.
"Vic," my shoulders dropped as if they had eighty-pound weights tied to them. "You don't mean you have to record me like that, will you?"
"There is nothing in my instructions stating that you must endure any penetration other than by your hand."
Thank fucking God.
"So what does he want, then?"
"I cannot say."
"Victor-"
He held up his hands, immediately silencing me. "You do not have a say, and neither do I. My words to you that you must remember dearly, is to obey every command. Listen carefully, for it is not a game to be taken lightly."
"Alright." I dropped my head, feeling small even in his presence. "What do I need to do then?"
"We will go to the room together, I will begin the camera, and get you prepared for the film."
"Am I gonna have to-"
"The questions you ask could be fatal for you and me, let that be a reminder to you as we move forward with the night." He solemnly pulled open the door and strode out, keeping a steady pace so that I could follow behind him discretely.
As we entered the room, I was quickly faced with the realization that this whole film idea was one that was carefully set up, planned out to be like a fetish film. Ropes and gags laid out on a small wooden table displayed beside leather collars and shiny leashes.
"What the actual fuck, Vic?"
"Before we get started," he softly spoke, loud enough for only me to hear as he locked the door. "Know that this is business, and I apologize for my actions tonight."
"I understand." I took a deep breath and stepped further into the room to further examine the items. "Is that a dog bowl?"
"Silence." He held his gloved finger up to his mouth and hushed me, readying the camera until I saw the little red blinking light. Vic pulled a black mask over his face and took a deep breath for preparation.
What the fuck am I supposed to do?
Panicking inside, I turned away from the camera, looking down at the items down in front of me.
Without warning, he tied a thick piece of fabric over my eyes, tying my hair into the ferocious knot. "Down," his hands shoved on my shoulders, barking out his monotone orders.
Now on my hands and knees, I felt around on the floor, holding myself stable. It took everything in my being to hold in a very inappropriate giggle, focusing on his commands as best as I could.
"Now, sit."
Was I supposed to play dog?
Biting hard on the inner corners of my lips, I leaned back onto my heels and sat with my back tall and straight.
Do dogs sit like this?
What kind of sick shit was Marcello into?
Don't fucking laugh.
"Good girl. Stay." Vic's hand squeezed at the back of my neck, pressing his fingertips down until I squirmed in discomfort. "Stay."
I had only one way of keeping myself composed, and that was to focus on each breath I took in. If I wanted to get through this smoothly, I had to just go with the flow.
I'm sure Vic wasn't too fond of the obscure scene either.
A chillingly cold leather collar was then placed around my neck and secured tightly in the back. He paid no mind to the fact that there was no wiggle room for me to properly breathe with my new neck accessory.
"Who wants to go on a walk?"
Is this a joke?
I wasn't quite sure if I was meant to respond, so I pushed my back up straighter and held my chin up high. Lord knows I won't bark for the mother fucker unless-
Well.
Vic gave a hard tug on my leash before he placed his foot on my back and shoved me down. A quick motion that sent me tumbling down to the rough flooring, only to be brought back up by the leash.
"Fuck, I cursed, hacking out a strained cough.
"Do not curse." He snapped, bringing what I could only assume was the leather flogger, down onto my lifted behind. "Now crawl."
As I crawled around on my hands and knees, face reddening from the increase of blood flow to my head, I thought to myself, analyzing the situation I was forced into. I wondered if this wasn't a fetish at all, but just simply a way for me to be humiliated.
Like he was punishing me.
He always made it clear that I was to feel totally and completely hollowed out and used.
This led me to wonder why he wasn't here to perform these instructions to me, himself. Why Victor of all men?
I suppose it could be simply based on the fact that I had a sort of respect for Vic. He was always civil with me.
Another rough tug on my leash nearly stopped me in my tracks. I had been walking for what felt to be an entire football field, my knees were aching and my head was throbbing.
They were desensitizing me, tearing me away from reality, and forcing me into a sick idea.
Just to make me suffer.
Vic brought the whip down onto my back once more, letting out a sharp breath before the leather made contact. "Do not slow down, keep moving."
Resisting against the collar, I let out a strained whimper. Unintentionally feeding into the dog walking fantasy.
I managed to keep a consistent pace, imagining myself moving to a steady rhythm, fighting the pain that radiated in my knee caps.
"Sit!" Vic snapped, tugging back with excessive force.
Don't pass out.
Gasping out for air, my hand shot up to my neck without any warning. My body desperately needed oxygen, and fast.
"The poor bitch is thirsty." Vic's voice was closer to my ear now, sending chills up my back.
The sound of liquid pouring into that tiny dog bowl was something I didn't expect to be so excited about. I was thirsty, and I did deserve a damn drink.
Was that tequila?
"Drink up, be a good girl." He murmured, gripping the back of my mask and shoving my lips into the bitter sting of the alcohol.
It wasn't every day that I was faced with such a task, but I did my very best, full effort to slurp up the contents of my bowl. At least the tequila would take some of the pain away, a well-deserved reward for me.
He didn't have to know that.
"Look at you go," Vic said dryly, gripping onto the front of my blindfold and crudely tearing it up to my head. "Now face the camera."
It was then that I became very aware of the tensions on my neck, the way each breath was a gasp, restricted.
I felt completely detached from time and the present moment. I could no longer redirect my focus onto a mindless thought or song. The only sound that echoed in my pulsing ears, was the sound of my blood rushing through my veins.
"Good. Very good. Stay." He patted my head before pulling on the choker gently to adjust it up a notch, allowing me space to finally breathe. He then began to work on my bra clasp, pulling it off my chest with a huff.
I did not know it at first, but I had my eyes squeezed tightly shut, seeing splotches of color in the darkness behind my lids.
This was a sure method of torture, I had to give it to him.
The tequila was taking its effect on me, burning in my stomach like a sick tasting acid, one that made my head spin and my body sway.
"Face the camera, and hold your hands behind your back."
Was I doing it right?
Don't laugh, this is serious.
Why are you laughing?
The flogger again made contact with my skin, but this time it was over my chest startling me to sit up straighter.
"This is not a game. Keep your hands together. Focus." By the sound of Vic's voice, he was battling an internal feud with his mind.
I'm sure his voice was shaking.
I'm sure of it.
"Stay still." He mumbled, snaking the rope up my arms, securing them in a firm double wrap. Once the arms were fastened together, he began to work on my torso.
Entirely constricted by the rope, it was near impossible to move. Vic had looped the long chain on my leash around one of the knots in the rope, limiting all upper-body mobility.
I looked like a fool.
"Now you stay. Face the camera and stay still." The sound of his footsteps walking away from me, made my heart explode out of my chest cavity.
Where was he going? Was he going to leave me like this?
If I move, I'll fall and surely be faced with several consequences.
Once again Marcello had succeeded in his efforts to belittle me.
I wasn't alone. Vic hadn't left me yet, I knew this as a fact because I'm sure I didn't hear that door open. He had to have been perched on a nearby bench, watching me sway helplessly.
Just close your eyes and breathe.
Just breathe.
-
I hadn't noticed that I was asleep until I met the floor with the side of my body, landing in a painful heap.
There was no telling how long I had been asleep for, but I was almost sure that the alcohol had worn off, leaving me with the dull ache of a persistent migraine.
After blinking my eyes rapidly, I found Vic at the far side of the room, indeed sitting on the velvet-lined seats. "You are awake."
I guess I fucking am, huh?
"Just in time." He grunted as he pushed himself off of the bench and slowly made his way over to me. "You did not stay still."
"I'm sorry," I whimpered up at him, tears welling in my eyes as he yanked me off the floor, back to the camera.
"You should be."
I couldn't help it.
"But you are lucky."
Stay silent.
"You are to thank your master for his generosity tonight." He was now behind me, holding me up higher to come into closer contact with the camera. "Apologize for disgracing him in such a way, you know what you've done."
"I'm so sorry!" I shook out each word, letting out short sobs.
"'Sorry' what?" He shook my shoulders roughly, spilling the tears from my eyes as he did so.
"I'm sorry for disgracing you, Master. I know what I've done, and I'm begging you for forgiveness."
"Good." With a hidden rub against my shoulder blade, Vic stepped away from me and walked to the camera tripod, giving it a subtle nod before cutting the recording.
"Is it stopped?" I choked out, eager to release my body from these horrible ropes.
"You did very well, Peaches. I'm very impressed with your stamina."
"Do you think that was good enough for him?" I panted roughly, sighing out as he cut through the rope, freeing me.
I felt like a damn caterpillar freeing itself from its cocoon, the only real difference was that I was not emerging a pretty butterfly.
"Vic?" I slowly rose to my feet, balancing myself on the table so I could put my bra back on.
"Hmm?" He rubbed his eyes tiredly, obviously drained from watching me.
Ironic.
"Why did I have to do this? What does this mean?"
"All that I know is this is your first video and there are more to come. I receive specific instructions to follow in carrying out the direction of the film." His eyes hung low, unable to face my snot streaked face.
"You don't know what this means for me, do you?"
Slowly shaking his head, he pulled off his gloves and stuffed them in his inside coat pocket. "I do not."
"Does- am I going to be sold?" I feared the question just as much as I feared the answer that I had long-awaited. If anyone would tell me it would be Vic.
"There is no telling who has been sold, and who hasn't. It isn't my business to know. The only people who would know firsthand, are the buyers themselves, and then the products. Anyone else would just forget."
It was a vague answer, but it told me all that I needed to know. If I was to be a product, I would be Marcello's; only protected under the so-called security of Daddy's contract.
If that contract still held true.
"What time is it?" I rubbed my cold, wet nose and sniffled, looking down at the heap of discarded rope.
"Sometime past midnight. You must go now, continue with your duties as normal. I will get the room back to its original state." He outstretched his hand out towards the door, cueing me to take my leave.
"Thank you, Victor." I passed him solemnly, holding onto every last shred of my broken dignity.
"Peaches," he stopped me quickly, holding onto the crook of my arm. "Be warned that meddling in the affairs of wealthy, powerful men can end up causing greater damage to the ones you value the most. You must remember this, and hold it dear to your heart."
"I will," I said with a confident nod, stepping out of the room to make my way to the dressing room.
Time to do damage control
-
I felt surprised to admit that I felt at peace with the night. It was certainly a distressing encounter, but I was able to leave it will little to no marks. There was hardly any evidence that I was tied and walked like a dog. Save for the red bruising over my knees and the faint imprint of the collar on my neck, I was fortunate to leave the nightclub with my head high.
This was big news for me.
A wonderful feeling.
Damn near liberating.
This part of me was untouchable by Marcello.
At 2:00 am on the dot, I hurried out of the club and wasted no time crossing the lot to make my way to the spot Chris had been waiting for me.
I always had him to look forward to at the end of a day like this, and it was a blessing. Though he would never know of this obscure filming experience, he made it all feel better, and that was quite enough for me.
"Hey," I climbed into the truck, smiling boldly at him while buckling my seatbelt. "I missed you."
"I missed you too." He yawned loudly, leaning over in his seat to plant a soft kiss on my cheekbone. "How was work baby? Did anything happen?"
I didn't need to tell him about this.
Did I?
My life wasn't in danger.
It was just a video.
"Nope, nothing happened." I took his calloused hand in mine and kissed it softly. "It was an easy night."
"Good, I'm glad Princess." He smiled warmly, shifting the creaky truck in reverse. "Let's go home, okay?"
"Okay."
Why did I feel like crying?
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